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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27074527">The Secret Beneath Saint-Nazaire (1/2)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantomdotexe/pseuds/Phantomdotexe'>Phantomdotexe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>BDSM, Bondage, Dominatrix, F/F, Fetish, Heroine, Latex, Phantom - Freeform, Rubber, Tube, encasement, phantomdotexe, superhero, villain</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 01:08:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,501</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27074527</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantomdotexe/pseuds/Phantomdotexe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>PHANTOM meets DOCTOR CONSTANCE VALOR at her manor in SAINT-NAZAIRE. She finds herself drawn into a spider's web from which she may never escape... especially when VALOR is a devious, covetous dominatrix who wants Phantom as a living bondage trophy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Secret Beneath Saint-Nazaire (1/2)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Phantom warmed herself by the fireplace. It was dusk, and the estate was only marginally more climate-controlled than it had been a century ago. Saint-Nazaire was not a symbol of comfort. The rooms were tall, all gray granite with visible veins of silver and shining obsidian. The halls echoed, the rooms silenced and spartan. She turned and returned to the table with her host. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I noticed the costume above the fireplace,” Phantom said. “I take it the heroine who it belonged to is around here somewhere?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her host waved her hand away, shaking her head. “Those costumes look much better in frames, and I have better outfits for them. Had a lovely girl “Rook” who makes a much better “Pawn”. Mommy issues gives her an interest in the older stern types, and she’s adorable in her armbinder.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phantom, the guest, nodded in strong agreement. “There’s nothing as tasty as a trophy with some indicator of their former life nearby. Have them in heavy bondage and behind glass with their costumes next to them and a display of details like a museum piece.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She took in a breath. Doctor </span>
  <b>Constance Valor </b>
  <span>seemed to agree. She wasn’t easy to read. Delicate and imperious features; fair hair and skin. She held a nearly complete cup of tea in leather-gloved hands. They were long gloves, well-manicured ones that disappeared into the sleeves of her blouse. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>Or</b>
  <span>,” said Phantom, “have them as a nice doll, wandering and portable and serving your needs. Maybe give them a recording that tells you of their history on request.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Constance beamed. “That’s a deliciously spiteful idea. I’ve always gone with the classic display cases but you’ve pushed it up a notch! The holographic display of their costumes blinking out to reveal heavy steel and rubber, or some more lurid spandex and nylon design is a real twist into their inflated egos. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She took a sip from her drink, placing the empty mug down. Her features were unnerving. Phantom couldn’t put her finger on it. It was like staring a Teutonic painting. Valor continued. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s the best of both worlds. I love them for their original costume, look, and style . But I also love what I’ve done to them. Fond memories of winning the day replaced with proper rubber and boot polishing and the memorization of their owner’s training regimen as the stim pads down their their and buttocks gives those powerful muscles a juicy dose should thoughts wander to such concepts as escape, freedom, or independence. I have a habit of including corrective  '’</span>
  <em>
    <span>therapy</span>
  </em>
  <span>;, conditioning....and a decent amount of electricity on the unruly ones.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phantom shrugged, crossing her legs. “I appreciate the vim and vigor out of a hero, truly. I like the </span>
  <em>
    <span>joi de vivre</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But they’re better when a bit quieter, a bit less mobile. Maybe make a nice zoo enclosure, or give them run of the complex in a nice heavy straitjacket...”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her host nodded. “You know I like to hold contest for the more unruly ones. Your psychic types need their skulls cracked open to really get in there. Any unnatural shielding. The reality is they torment themselves by not embracing the blissful and unyielding embrace we over them. It’s fun to see former comrades bicker and fire for a key to one of a dozen locks or a crude blade to peel off the suit that’s akin to 200 hands wandering their sensitive frames.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It is a pity that they have to be such a nuisance with each other; just imagine if they all got along in submissive, empty obedience.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phantom idly imagined what she’d do. “The fun visuals you could have; the galleries or dioramas... but when you say “contest,” what happens to the winners?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mm, the two that have won so far - Kaysach and CornerKick - which I know, very campy names...” </span>
  <em>
    <span>She pushes back into her chair and a smile breaks out across her sharp features.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Well once they’ve made it out and are promptly booted onto their pretty little asses by </span>
  <em>
    <span>yours truly</span>
  </em>
  <span>, they discover a reality. That villains don’t play fair. They get a nice three days without their gag so I can hear them bitch and make new sounds by way of any of my new projects or their former friends.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The white-skinned villain shook her head. “I’d have let one of them go, just to see if they’d do the obvious mistake and come back immediately to try to rescue a friend. If they do, well, you get an excuse to make sure they regret it. Or at least come to enjoy it. If they don’t? You get to lord it over them. But having them I gagged is a nice choice too. I bet they had some choice words. I do hope that “cheater” wasn’t one of them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm…” replied Constance. “That’s a rather nice idea. I think I’m too much of a control freak at times to even venture the idea though. The thought of them slipping out of their restraints entirely? I couldn’t have that. These little devils running around in their masks, tights and harnesses? We both know what they want. I would be doing a disservice to let them escape. But letting them foster the idea of it and fail miserably is certainly acceptable! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some make for lovely conversationalists. They’re so cocksure they’ll find the gap. The day I’m not wearing my ‘armor’ so to speak. But the day never comes - however their gags always come back.” Constance’s eyes shot at Phantom when she finished. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Phantom was at ease. Valor could see it in her eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It would be a disservice to them, to be sure. Depriving them of </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> eminence? Almost seems cruel. But you get to know that you’re quite permanently emblazoned in their brains. And even if you don’t let them out, letting them have those fantasies can be healthy - even if you’re only letting them think about escape so that you can utterly stamp it out with a well oiled leather boot.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Constance’s eyes ran up and down Phantom for a moment. “Or a rubber boot, in your case. You know you would do great in one of those escapes. I’ve often hoped for a repeat winner to find an assistant of sorts. I say assistant </span>
  <em>
    <span>laughs</span>
  </em>
  <span> more like a personalized plaything I keep close. Just as with all the pieces in my collection, I’m sentimental about things I covet. Love is too weak a word for how I keep my dollies. Be them heroes or unfortunate souls. Surely one of them is smart enough, or crafty enough?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phantom sighed blissfully. A personalized plaything. Such a delicious idea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A special someone that knows your ins and outs and also helps you with the occasional scheme. Imagine them being the “sleeper cell” ; using them with a bunch of new acquisitions and letting them sow chaos or confusion. If they’re good they can even do it while heavily gagged. So very sweet of you; you’re just a big softie, deep down, aren’t you doctor?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dr. Constance raised an eyebrow as Phantom continued. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your begging, moaning, deeply doomed dolls. I’d say that I’d be good, but I fear I’d escape too soon. You need someone around your knees, not behind your back as you read at the fire.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Valor nodded soberly. “I’m all heart, Phantom. I don’t think I’d survive the corporate hellscape you navigate in and out of. Be it the R&amp;D labs you are so fond of pilfering or the hostile takeovers, is it?” “Knowing my ins and outs is a funny way of saying ‘understanding proper posture and record keeping while their straitjacket is buckled to the Che chain looped through their ballet heels; I don’t tolerate slacking.” “Escape? Oh darling you’d never see the perimeter fence, much less the sun. I often am asked why, as a woman who loves rubber so much and having it apparent in my workings, why I wear leather? Do you know what I tell them? </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Women in rubber boots look much nicer on their knees next to women in leather boots.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phantom spent a few moments running the conversation back in her mind. Perfect clarity of words didn’t always make for perfect understanding of them</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"You've done some research, then? Both the professional and </span>
  <em>
    <span>professional</span>
  </em>
  <span> types of research, of course. Using a professional source, but also thoughts on my </span>
  <em>
    <span>profession</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That's very nice of you. It always makes me feel so </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Your 'type' sounds like a very lovely sort. Though they also seem like they wouldn't have much say in the matter, once you had your heart set on them. I admit a similar desire for an absolute perfect dress-up doll and companion."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Valor took took the moment to pull open a drawer, withdrawing a silver compact and taking a cigarette from it and lighting it in a smooth economy of movement. Phantom likely hadn’t even seen how the lighter came to be in the woman’s gloved hand. She set the compact down and pushed it over in quiet offering. A few puffs and a pall of dark smoke poured from lips that looked like they had been stained red. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Four private investigators, two hired insertions. Your background checks for even low levels are a </span>
  <em>
    <span>bitch</span>
  </em>
  <span> to clean someone for. You have my professional compliments on that. I think one of them you personally took and two of those investigators stopped responding after a month. But I had what I needed. In addition to my own work.”</span>
</p><p><span>She lifted the cigarette and knocked some ash onto the floor before resuming. “You misunderstand one aspect, dear. I don’t want you; I </span><b><em>covet</em></b> <span>you.”</span></p><p>
  <span>The woman replaced the cigarette in her lips; her face completely inscrutable.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The smoke wafted past Phantom's nostrils. She seemed unfazed in the way that someone pretending that nothing is wrong; a waitress being told off, a person learning that they were being fired. A villain learning that things weren't as cordial as they seemed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After four extremely long seconds of this, she leaned back slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's a funny word. You could have said "I </span>
  <b>envy </b>
  <span>you," which would have been a very nice boost to my ego. To want something I have." The smile went a little wider, more genuine as she pushed her hair up slightly. She even gave a wink</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span> "...but you don't seem like someone to use words without choosing them. Now, what </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> the difference in your book? Between want and covet?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Constance let the question and statement hang in the air as the cigarette burned down to the filter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She showed absolutely no rush while looking directly at her counterpart. Icy blue eyes that didn’t move but conveyed a sense that she was going over every inch of her. That glossy glove reached up, plucking the cigarette and flicking it out of view and out of mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <b>could </b>
  <span>have said that. It would have been accurate, but not convey the emotions behind it. Envy is a limited word. I view it as one that does not contain follow-through. Covet conveys the accuracy of my meanings and the emotion behind them, dear. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I covet you.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as before she was inscrutable, but the air had taken on an electric, greasy tang to it despite the immobility of the host.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phantom pointed to the compact, asking for it, her smile up-turning slightly</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"It almost sounds like you've got a crush on me. Let it be known - not only am I enamored, I'm grateful. There isn't a woman alive who has your radiance. I'm hanging on every word you say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What </span>
  <b>
    <em>I</em>
  </b>
  <span> can say is that you have goals. Too many are only vaguely aware of what they want. You? You take it, sure... but you let the world know what you want to take. That's the difference."</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Phantom leaned forward. She was shifting in her seat quite a bit, the opposite of the woman sitting opposite.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Doctor Valor leaned forward as if to push it forward, only to rise fully, dragging the compact around the desk they sat across and coming to Phantom’s side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman had presence while sitting down; now she was just imposing. Breaking six feet in those leather heels, she spotted a white blouse with a black leather corset - her heavy bust supported through the window the overgarment made. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her gloves squeaked slightly as they left the compact and the doctor leaned against the table causing her cream colored pants to wrinkle slightly around her hips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “A crush is a cute way of saying what I have for you, Phantom. Not entirely inaccurate either.” She braced her hands on her desk and this time her eyes did wander the corporate dynamo’s frame.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She held up a cigarette - when had she opened the compact? - and pressed it to her companion’s lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lighter came up from her other hand, closed with a flick and the open, </span>
  <em>
    <span>empty</span>
  </em>
  <span> palm pushing Phantom back into her seat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Proper posture is important.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phantom found herself frozen in place. Lips taut in a smile that was definitely not genuine, brow furrowed at the brief dragging sound. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though she didn't move, her eyes traced over every </span>
  <em>
    <span>inch</span>
  </em>
  <span> of Dr. Valor’s body; scanning it, analyzing it, making notes, and taking in all the unique features. Nothing was a 'flaw'. Everything was a feature.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sitting "up straight," she took a puff from the cigarette but couldn't muster the same energy as her companion. It wasn't that she was thrown </span>
  <em>
    <span>off</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She realized that she was mimicking Constance. She tried to turn it around. </span>
</p><p><span>"You know, they say that humans mimic people around them when they like them. And I have to say, I'm starting to think you </span><b><em>really</em></b> <span>like me. You were right - it's not just about the words, it's about the follow-through." Phantom's posture was "ruined" as she leaned forward, resting her chin between her hands. </span></p><p>
  <span>"So, before I leave, mind spoiling a little bit of that 'follow-through' you were brainstorming?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For the first time since she stood, Dr. Valor smiled again and took the compact, holding it up to examine something. A blemish? A hair out of place? It came back down and her eyes were... </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Baroness of Saint-Nazaire gripped the side of the headrest on the chair looming over her pale-faced prize. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The follow-through? The follow-through is you </span>
  <b>never leaving this castle again</b>
  <span>, my dear doll.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes lacked any iris, instead glowing purple that almost hummed in the air. The smile was genuine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her lips parted to allow hot hair to wash down the front of her face before speaking. </span>
  <b>”If you can move, I’d suggest you start running.”</b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Green eyes met with a glowing, arcane purple. The cigarette dropped from between her fingers. Her eyes went wide, her smile turned to a small </span>
  <b>‘O’</b>
  <span>  in astonishment - still relaxed and resting her chin. She regained her composure by the time she'd stood up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Doctor Valor, this was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>treat</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and I hope we can meet again soon. Pulse should be delivered sometime soon, once she's boxed up." She turned to leave, taking a few  steps with a veneer of normalcy. "I know how you like having a complete set of trophy-girls."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Outside the door, her footsteps considerably quicker. She didn’t get far.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door swung open to a glossy black glove catching the woman in her solar plexus. A minute shift in only her stance brought the arm and hand forward, and sent the fleeing doll hard into the oak door that remained closed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carvings of intertwined trees and birds pressed into her back as Dr. Constance Valor pinned her with a palm. She looked up, expecting something, and returned her attention to her guest.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>”You don’t listen, do you Phantom? We’re going to have to fix that.”</b>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Authority dripped from her words and her stance oozed and imperious manner she had masked as confidence.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>“I did lie earlier as well; envy isn’t the proper word because it is a human emotion.”</b>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The previously closed door smacked open, followed by a pale, floor-skidding CEO, followed by the Baroness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A second head-spinning, gasping, astonishment, recalibration. The executive forced herself to her feet, using a slightly sore hand to push herself up, a bruised ego to get her going, and the ancient fear of the unknown to break from a stunned hobble into a jog and then a sprint down the corridor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was not an aura she could describe with precise language. It was an essence, a puissance that she gave off just by being near her. Phantom almost got lost in thought just thinking about the good doctor's scent from being so close.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The halls were black with red trims and lacked any amount of navigation. Being guided to the office and around was one thing. Blindly running through them in fear was another. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>”You learn fast, that’s going to serve you very well.”</b>
</p><p>
  <span> Phantom could hear her - as if she was in her ear like a lover - when the arm came out, clothes-lining her and immediately dropping into a straddle with a smile that looked far more animalistic and predatory then human.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>”But it’s going to take a doll more than just some quick thinking to escape Hell.”</b>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The same gloves she had been wearing ran like molten wax down her arms. Black rubber oozed down her hands and onto Phantom’s shoulders. The stuff was heavy and thick with the odor of rubber and polish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> It seemed to expand and flow down faster and faster as Valor leaned down.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>”Careful now, don’t want to pinch anything.”</b>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The rubber mass was reforming over her torso with breathtaking speed. Magical material was re-forming and solidifying. The same glossy material that Constantcehad worn on her hands now gripped and tugged with sentience at Phantom. Her limbs dragged across her stomach and pulled tighter and tighter. Internal corseting cinched and tightened around her stomach, giving her a slightly more pronounced hourglass figure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A pair of straps dug in between her legs as a </span>
  <em>
    <span>choice</span>
  </em>
  <span> of clicks and rubber squeaks heralded the securing of the rubber straitjacket.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>”Remember dear, proper posture.”</b>
  <span> She leaned down as if to kiss the pale captive, as if a pair of lovers. Instead, her form bled into a cloud of ashy smoke that washed over her torso and body, dissipating over the floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phantom yowled as it happened, trying to block her attacker as it was happening. She only managed to get one arm free, grabbing Valor’s hand in time to feel thick, black rubber pour over it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the doctor turned to "smoke," Phantom managed an extremely loud </span>
  <b>gasp</b>
  <span> of air as she inhaled; not that she'd been terribly asphyxiated, but that she'd forgotten to breathe while being pinned, encased, jacketed, corseted, and cinched.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As if from nowhere, Dr. Valor ran here bare fingers down the sides of Phantom's head, playing with her hair and humming a strange melody.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <b>"You seem a little shellshocked dear. You wouldn't have been to keen in the trenches, but I have much better, </b>
  <b>
    <em>tighter</em>
  </b>
  <b> confines for you than a trench in mind."</b>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman was up, flexing her arms as she circled down to her captive's feet and kneeled down, grasping one of her boots with a smirky and pulling it off, followed by the second. She tossed them aside and pressed two bare fingers against her knee, walking them up the limb and over the strap.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <b>"I'm going to keep you nice and tight in somewhere none of your teams, or your assets, or anyone on this marble of ours is ever going to find you. That's the follow through of my kind of coveting, my dear dolly."</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phantom's lips quivered slightly. She had neither seen nor felt Valor’s bare flesh against her body. To feel her fingers against her face </span>
  <em>
    <span>first</span>
  </em>
  <span> was enough to make her blush. She didn't act the brat, but instead turned her head, slightly, away at first and then back towards her hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're just a bit more than I anticipated," she said. "I'm adaptable. I would have adapted. Right now, I'm already doing the math. I don't know the source of your power, but I imagine you paid dearly to have it. More importantly, I think that you'd have your... </span>
  <em>
    <span>vigor</span>
  </em>
  <span> even without it." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She yelped slightly as her boots were removed, and reflexively twitched at feeling the digits against her thigh. The thought of being packed up, disappeared weighed on her. "That's why you're so admirable. I wouldn't have come to visit if not. And..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She leaned her head up and showed a smile, pausing a moment to be certain her face was going to be as earnest as possible. "And that's why I think we can have this conversation tomorrow? Cooler heads?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Constance smiled, but the expression carried no warmth and infinite malice in it. She walked her fingers up and over her stomach, between the glossy, encased breasts and onto her face, pushing her head back to the floor as she shifted to sit next to her prize</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <b>"I couldn't agree more."</b>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She was up on her feet, boots loud on the floor when she stood. With her, came one of the freshly revealed ankles. She dragged Phantom down the hall like a predator with its meal, some sort of protean caveman with a fine kill for their family. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pair arrived back into the office, Constance dragging Phantom to the center of the room. off to the right, a large metal cylinder with one door opened up and an internal wall of blinking diodes and scanning bars beeped and clicked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cylinder was flush with the floor; no base, no stand to secure or even transport it.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>"Here we are! I was hoping you'd prove much more of a chase, but I'll take my time finding out if all the rumors and wonderful things I hear about you are true."</b>
</p><p>
  <span>She dropped her quarry's foot and stepped over to her desk, where a pile of items had been gathered since the pair left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rubber sleeves, lengths of chain with varying thickness, a few masks in different shiny materials, an imposing steel belt that sported two heavy looking plugs, and a pile of steel shackling and bands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she moved her hands around the items, sorting and positioning, she spoke without looking.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>"I hope you don't have any allergies, dear."</b>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Phantom felt her head pushed gently - yet firmly - against the tile, the fingers splayed out across her face. She resisted the inexplicable urge to lick at the carefully manicured digits. Those gloves seemed to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>wonders</span>
  </em>
  <span> for her cuticles. Her physical strength was no joke, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> It wasn't just physique; it was the </span>
  <b>confidence</b>
  <span> to use it. That alone was a kind of superpower.* "It wasn't entirely fair, was it?" Phantom smiled with the same tone she'd used earlier. "I was too busy thinking about our next appointment that I forgot our earlier discussion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I'm sure I'll repay the..." with her words trailing off more and more with each item presented. The sleeves first, then the chain, then the masks, then the belt. By the time she eyed the plugs, she was quite speechless."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Valor finished applying a lubricant to the belt and checked the clasps once before undoing them and opening the device. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>"Oh think nothing of it. Repayment is a paltry little thing compared to the duties you will provide and complete not just in service to my domain...but to me."</b>
</p><p>
  <span>She was besides the prone CEO and placed a boot on her side, rolling her over onto her front with a giggle. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>"Don't take this the wrong way dear, but you seem to have a bit of a focus problem. I believe its affecting other aspects of your demeanor. You'll find I'm successful in my pursuits because I don't loose focus. I don't take my eyes off the prize."</b>
</p><p>
  <span> Her eyes wandered from soles to backside, taking a moment to feel the excitement wash over her. Like a present waiting to be unwrapped. She set the belt down and held out her hand, watching her nails sharpen and elongate only a bit; but they were razors now. She reached down, giving that firm rear a gratuitous squeeze before dragging her fingers down between both legs. She was careful to not push too hard as the cloth separated behind her trail. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>"Did you know my mother was a seamstress?"</b>
  <span> The nails clicked like organic metals slotting home as she gripped one of the straps on the lower back of the jacket and hauled up, bringing Phantom to her knees but keeping her head down with a boot placed against her raising head to bring it back to the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <b>"It's so rare people hear the story behind the legends. A simple seamstress. The woman could weave like Arachne herself. I like to think I took after her."</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A hesitant </span>
  <em>
    <span>nghh </span>
  </em>
  <span>wasn't much of a response to being toyed with by the powerful boot of her teutonic captor, but it did accurately resemble how she felt. Being shoved around, not just like a captive, but a piece of meat - a piece of </span>
  <em>
    <span>hardware. It was strange, then, that she also felt like she was an honored guest.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm just not used to being given the full treatment on my first visit," the CEO said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> "Normally I need to pay a substantial bribe. That, or spend an evening forcing my host to lick my boots clean. Sometimes they're the same thing." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shredded cloth fell to the ground, and Phantom's metaphorical armor was soon to follow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> "You've got quite the talent. I take it that all this was made to your specification?''</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>"I visited your tailor two weeks ago before you flew out. I'm sorry to say their OpSec is a little lacking. Maybe you'll bump into them at a later date during your stay."</b>
</p><p>
  <span> The statement was matter of fact and a slight bit of pressure to her head suggested a shift in her stance as cold metal touched pale white flesh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without warning or word, plugs found their destinations and were sliding in with a slow ease. A push here, a slow sink there...seconds later the base of the belt pushed into more pale skin.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <b>"Your boots are going to look much nicer in a glass display than they do against some scientist's tongue, dear."</b>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Constance displayed a raised eyebrow as she closed the clasps on the belt, ensuring a smooth and clean lock that hugged. The metal strip parted both buttcheeks slightly, even giving a little bit of lift to her rear. The belt rested firmly, but comfortably around and on her hips as a series of electronic clicks sounded. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>"Impressive, I usually get a whine or two more out of dolls."</b>
  <span> She stepped away, releasing her captive's head and snatching an item from the table.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <b>"Any last statements, snark, or requests you'd like before we get to the fun pieces?"</b>
</p><p> </p>
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